Friday Night Dinner
by xXyumpancakesXx
Summary: Germany helps Italy cook pasta for once, and Prussia and Austria are there too! Light fluff.


Germany sighed as he got out of his car and closed the door. He had a hard day at work with his boss, and was just glad he was back home. It was just about six o' clock when he got home to his big house, which hopefully meant his unwelcomed guests were gone.

Prussia: Out at a bar with his two friends-the Bad Touch Trio they called themselves.

Austria: Staying in his room for the rest of the evening and _out_ of his sight.

And lastly

Italy: At home where he belongs.

Germany trudged his way to his doorstep and opened the front door. He walked inside and almost smiled upon the quiet house.

"Hi Germany!" Italy greeted with his warm smile, running up and hugging the big lug, nearly toppling him over as he did so.

And so the moment ended.

"Italy, what are you doing here? You should be in your _own_ house." Germany grumbled, prying the much thinner arms off of himself.

"I'm sorry! Romano kicked me out again this morning and I didn't know where else to go, and since you were at work I figured you wouldn't mind so I came here! Please dont let me leave, I'll be good I promise! I won't be in your way and I'll be silent and I-"

Germany pinched the bridge of his nose upon hearing Italy ramble on and on. "Fine, you can stay for the evening. Vatever."

"Great!" Italy jumped up and ran towards the kitchen, with Germany trudging behind him.

Germany entered the kitchen to find Italy grabbing out a pan from a cabinet, filling it up three-fourths with water, and placing it on the stove.

Of course. Pasta. More specifically, spaghetti.

"Pasta again, Italy?" Germany asked dumbly.

"Yep! Want to help me?" The small Italian asked as he took out two boxes of spaghetti noodles. Apparently he was cooking for more than two people.

Germany shrugged. "Show me vat to do."

Italy's smile grew wider.

He grabbed out a large skillet and got out a pound of ground beef. "You can make the sauce!"

Germany wasn't much of a cook-especially when it came to pasta-but he thought he might as well give it a shot. He turned on the stove, grabbed a spatulla, and began to break down the meat with the tip of it. He chopped it up as best he could, meanwhile flipping it over repeatedly and making sure that it got all nice and cooked, and left no red spots on the meat.

Italy, meanwhile, waited for the water to boil. He took out two small cans of tomato paste, grabbing a can opener and opening them both up. He then filled a cup of water in a measuring cup. He placed the two ingredients next to Germany with a bright smile. "Make sure to put these in once the meats all cooked, okay?"

Germany nodded and continued to chop the ground beef up.

Soon enough the water began to boil furiously and Italy dumped the spaghetti noodles into the pan. He began to stir the noodles and hum happily as he did so.

Germany wondered how he could find simple pleasures in cooking. For most people, cooking was nothing but another chore, yet somehow no matter what mood the Italian was previous, the German could always find him cooking pasta with glee.

Germany figured the meat was all cooked and _hopefully_ got rid of all the red spots, and poured in the cup of water, plus two little cans of tomato paste. He then began to stir it.

"Oh! Almost forgot!" Italy said before going over to the higher cabinets, grabbing out some ground herbs and dashing them into the sauce.

"What is this?" Germany asked as he continued to stir.

"My Italian herbs of course! They make the sauce extra yummy!" The shorter man replied before going back to his place at the noodles.

The sound of the front door opening and closing made Italy perk up like an eager puppy. He bounced on his heals but stayed in his place to watch over the wobbly-forming noodles.

"Mm, I'm starving." The red-eyed nation known as Prussia said as he took a whiff of the tomato sauce smelling air, and popped his head into the kitchen. "Now all you need is some vurst and the meal will be perfect."

"No vurst, bruder," Germany said, "but you can get out the salad."

A scowl left the Prussian's mouth at the thought of eating such a healthy course as salad. Too much greens for his taste. However, he proceeded to open up the fridge, take out the bag of pre-made salad, and dump it into a large bowl.

"Ha, finished." Prussia smirked at how little work he had to do.

"Good. Now you can set the table." Germany replied, his face kept focused on stirring the sauce, which was becoming thicker by the minute.

Prussia shot a dirty look, then pouted as he trudged towards the cabinet and grabbed out the plates and bowls.

Germany figured the sauce was good and ready, turned off his side of the stove, and placed the lid of the skillet ontop of it to keep the sauce warm until the noodles were ready.

"Hey, is Specs coming down or what?" Prussia asked, figuring whether or not to place a plate and bowl down at his usual seat.

"Yea! He's coming down! He promised!" Italy replied.

Prussia shrugged and set the plate and bowl down. He then went over to the drawer in the kitchen and took out the utensils to set down.

Italy raised the wooden spoon he used to stir the spaghetti, took a noodle from the spoon (but not before yelping in pain at how hot it was), and tasted it. He nodded his head in acceptance and turned off the stove.

"Here, let me help you, Italy." Germany said upon seeing Italy bring the noodes over to the sink, and grabbed out the strainer from in the cabinet for him.

Italy dumped the noodles into the strainer. His eyes widened with amazement of all the steam rising at once (why this amazed him, Germany would never know). He then took a big bowl from the cabinet and dumped the noodles into it. He grabbed the skillet of sauce and poured it into the bowl as well, making sure to scrape it all out.

Once together, Italy began to stir it all up. He smiled widely and brought the pasta to the table. Germany followed, bringing over the salad, dressings, and parmesan cheese.

Prussia also soon followed, bringing over everyone's drinks. Beer for him and Germany, wine for Italy, and tea for Austria.

Austria, being the freeloading noble we all know he is, appeared in the doorway in perfect timing.

"Ah, I see ve are all eating together for once." he said.

"Yea! Isn't it wonderful!" Italy exclaimed, happily, sitting down at the table.

Austria gazed his eyes upon Germany and Prussia (in a rather snobby way I might add) before replying, "I suppose." and sitting down at the table as well.

Prussia and Germany took their seats as well, and upon saying grace, (Italy _is_ Catholic after all) they began to eat.

And for once, everyone sat around dinner together, eating peacefully.

"Yay, pasta!"

The End.

* * *

><p><em><strong>First of all, I know this was more of an Italian-American cuisine, considering Italians usualy have their meat seprately and not included into the sauce. Ah well, I'm American, what do you expect? Anyways, I got inspired to write this while cooking spaghetti with my friend at her grandpa's house.<strong>_

_**The idea is that they are having a sort of family dinner for once.**_

_**Oh, and true fact: Italians eat their salads after pasta.**_

_**P.S. Does anyone know why Prussia calls Austria Specs? Whether its only used in fanfiction or also in the show I don't know. Just curious.**_

_**Anyways hope you enjoyed. :)**_


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